Ire’s attention sharpened. “Go on.”
“The vow,” I said. “The one I made to you. To die in her place when the Fates come to collect.”
He nodded slowly. “I recall.”
“I want it undone.”
He tilted his head, studying me with the intense curiosityof a predator puzzling over an interesting new prey. “Regretting your heroics? I did not take you for a coward, Rydian Nytherra.”
I met his gaze, biting back my own temper. Cursing a god would get me nowhere. Besides, he was already cursed to Hel. “I am only regretting that I might not be there when she needs me most. All because I thought martyrdom was the only way to save us all.”
A flicker of something—amusement, maybe—passed through his eyes. “The boy grows into a man.”
“Don’t patronize me,” I said evenly. “I knew what I was offering. I still do. But I swore that oath when Aurelia was an idea more than a person. A prophecy. A symbol.” I stepped closer, ignoring the way the air around him felt thinner, hotter. “Now, I’ve bled beside her. Watched her wake up, cursed and alone, and still choose to fight. She doesn’t deserve any more loss than she’s already endured. We can find another way.”
Ire watched me like he was reading every thought I tried not to show.
“You care for her.”
I didn’t flinch away. “Enough to do anything to keep from hurting her. As should you.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Do you think insulting me as a father will help your cause, Prince?”
“You and I want the same thing.”
“Which is?”
“Her happiness.”
“And you think you can be that?” he asked quietly.
“I intend to be,” I said. “But I can’t if this blood vow drags me into an early grave.”
His gaze drifted once more to the rune on my ribs. Blood still trickled slowly from the cut, tracking along the lines of ink.
“You misunderstand the nature of the vow,” he said at last.
“I understand it well enough,” I countered. “Death comes for her; I die instead. So she can live to free the realm.”
He shook his head. “The vow says that, if the Fates choose to claim her, my power will offer… an alternative. A trade. It will not force you into that grave. It will make you available to choose.”
“Available.” The word tasted bitter. “Like a weapon pulled off a rack.”
“Like a king sent to the front line so his people might live,” he said. “You didn’t object to that part when you asked me for the strength to protect them. Or her.”
“I didn’t know her,” I shot back.
“And now you do.” His gaze softened in a way that wasn’t comforting. Gods’ pity never was. “That doesn’t make the bargain invalid. It just makes it hurt.”
I clenched my jaw. “Undo it. Find another way.”
“I can’t,” he said simply.
Rage flared—hot, sharp, immediate. My shadows surged, twitching toward him before I yanked them back. “Won’t, you mean.”
“I meancan’t,” he said. “There are rules, Rydian. Even for me.”
“You’re a god. You make the rules.”
